I got pretty spun out at WalMart last night. Rick had to hang back at the house while I ventured out into the big, bad world of retail all on my own. It’s not that I’m helpless or something, here. But signing up to peruse the aisles of WalMart USA, the Thursday night before the Memorial Day Weekend holiday with no backup, is not my idea of a sane time.

As you can imagine, the store was a madhouse. But I did manage to get in and out in a record-breaking 1 hour and 45 minute spree. (Freaking ridiculous!)

However, the real stress didn’t rear it’s ugly head until I ventured back into the parking lot. As I forced my little kart through the cross walk, I said to myself, “Self, which way is your car?” I’ve started this conversation in my head numerous times but I’ve never had to actually finish it…My car always magically appears right in front of my face.

But last night, for some dumb reason, my car did not magically appear.

I shoved that heavy-ass kart up and down rows of cars, squinting and searching like none other than the great Columbo himself. The stupid kart got heavier and my patience grew thinner. After about 15 minutes of no luck whatsoever, I trucked it back to the front of the store and I asked a couple of guys who were loading what appeared to be the entire store’s stock of Coca-Cola into the back of their Blazer, if they would be willing to watch my stupid, heavy kart while I continued forth on my mission. (They looked at me like I was nuts, by the way).

So I headed back out into that concrete jungle of automobiles and lamp posts (and pleas note, I think that the lamp posts at WalMart are not at all conducive to lost car scenarios–they offer way too much blockage). But then finally, after another 15 minutes – no joke – I found my car.

When I saw my car, I felt like I had spent the last half an hour calling for my little dog…”Fido, Fido…Come here, boy…Where are you?!?” Only to find him sitting in the backyard and looking at me like, “What’s wrong you idiot? I’ve been right here the whole time?”

Good Lord. I’m 27 years old. If this is a sign of what is to come, I am in BIG trouble. Yep.

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